


Critical Error

by rustywrites



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mindfuck, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 16:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rustywrites/pseuds/rustywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembers Clu smiling, his yellow-orange disc glowing dangerously, poised for a blow that he didn’t deliver.</p><p>He doesn’t remember much after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Critical Error

**Author's Note:**

> This is really, really old. Like over a year old. :/ Oops.

He remembers waiting for the end and the end never coming. Clu had him pinned as he yelled something, he doesn’t remember what he said (Flynn, run!) and then, time seemed to stop, every fiber of his being humming with energy, every bit of data that made up his programming telling him, paradoxically, that he had to fight while blaring ominous warnings at him (critical system error, derezolution imminent). He remembers Clu smiling, his yellow-orange disc glowing dangerously, poised for a blow that he didn’t deliver.

He doesn’t remember much after that.

 

—-–

“You’ll see things my way soon enough, my friend,” Clu’s voice was almost gentle as he walked lazy vulture-circles around Tron’s shackled body, his boots click-clack-click-clack’ing against the almost reflective black of the floor, nd if you don’t, well,he smiled, dangerous, “Well, we’ll just have to cross that bridge when we come to it, eh?”

“You’re insane,Tron tried to sound as strong, as unshakable as he was programmed to be, but the words scraped against his lips like sandpaper and he coughed. “Think about what you’r-“

The back of Clu’s hand collided with the side of his face with a resounding crack and Tron’s head jerked to the side with the momentum of the blow.

“Oh Tron, if only you knew just how much I have thought about this. All of this. If only you could see just how sane I am,” Clu clicked his tongue; shook his head before smiling again, “You’ve got some potential, I’ll give you that. A lot of potential, really,The same hand that struck him reached up to brush across his cheek and Tron struggled violently against his restraints, fighting against the gentle touch like it was another blow. “You’re not like him, you’re capable of perfection, that’s why you’re still active. I have faith that you’ll understand, or I would have derezzed you right there on the street,”

Him. Flynn. Flynn was still out there. Flynn would know what to do. Flynn always knew what to do…he was a user, he could fix this, he could fix all of this, just like he had before back on the old system…

“I’ll never be like you, I fight for the us-“

A loud, cruel laugh interrupted him. Clu’s smile was wider now, manic almost. “No, no Tron. Not anymore. Soon, you’ll fight for me.”

—-–

No, that’s not exactly true. He remembers coming online in a place he’d never seen, and then he remembers a great deal of pain.

 

—-–

Tron screamed, his entire body arcing in a convulsion as Clu idly prodded at the holographic code on his disc, arranging and deleting and adding bits and pieces as he went.

“So sorry about that, Flynn taught me a lot about this stuff, but it’s all harder than it looks. Complex stuff, all this code. One wrong move and I could…” Clu’s fingers made a series of very deliberate movements and behind him Tron convulsed again, his eyes flickering bright then dark then bright again. Clu let out an unrestrained laugh, “Cause you a lot of discomfort.”

“I’ll die before I help you do anything!” Tron’s voice was rough, but his resolve more solid than it had been in the cycles before (Cycles? Just how long had he been here?). The pain was one thing, he knew how to endure it, he was confident he could out last it, but the longer Clu tinkered with his disc, the more difficult it was to focus. Cycles bled into one another, he couldn’t tell if they were moving too fast or too slow.

“Still so loyal to the users?” Clu finally moved away from the disc, the holographic code blinking out of existence, “Where are they, then? Where is Flynn to save you? He’s left you for dead, and still you struggle for him.”

Clu’s hand was suddenly around his neck, squeezing and at the same time, forcing their eyes to meet.

“Pathetic.”

—-–

There was someone else, once. He knows that much, there used to be another here…A program? No…Something else…Someone…

He sees Clu’s face now and grits his teeth, not because it hurts, the pain’s little more than a dull ache now, but because there’s something that’s too familiar about it. Something he can’t pin down…

Searching, searching searching…

No results found.

 

—-–

Clu eventually released him from his bonds the room was still locked, though. Always locked. Tron stopped trying to escape all together. Even if he got out, there was no where to go, the sky was dark now and that meant something…Something terrible, he knew, but he couldn’t pin down what or why.

He struggled still, when Clu would hold out his hand and ask him to join him, but he didn’t know why. Principle maybe? Clu was his jailor, after all, that seemed like reason enough to oppose him.

“If Flynn could see you now,” Clu mocked, lounging against the couch on the far side of the room as Tron stared back, eyes and face blank. That name had meant something once, he knew it had, but he couldn’t come up with an answer. This fearless warrior, stripped down to some basic function. Do you remember when you were convinced he would save you?” Clu laughed, “Oh, no, of course you don’t, waved his hand, dismissing his own joke, “But you did, you’d tell me that he’d come for me, he’d end this.”

(Had he said that? Why had he said any of that? When?)

“Well, where is he then? Where are your precious Users?

Tron bared his teeth at that, frustrated and insulted but unsure as to why. In some other time and some other place, he would have lept to his feet, would have fought but not now.

He’d run out of things to fight for.

Clu didn’t appear threatened, instead he smiled; a more genuine smile than Tron could remember seeing from him in a long time.

“They’ve abandoned you, Tron. Flynn has abandoned you, but me? I will never abandon you.”

—-–

Somewhere along the line, he lost his name, and for a while, he is known as nothing.

Lost it, or it was stolen, can’t be sure which, can’t be sure why.

He paces the room, moving like a caged animal. His body remembers who he is more than his brain does, now.

There are no mirrors here and it dawns on him then, that along with his name, he’s missing his face. Can’t remember it, hasn’t seen it in such a long time…

Can remember Clu’s face, though. Can remember that smile. Can remember that voice and that promise. Can remember that Clu gave him a purpose.

 

—-–

When he’s finally let out of his cell Clu drapes an arm around his shoulder and the gesture is both alien and familiar at the same time.

“C’mon, let’s get you into something more appropriate, you’re going to have a lot of work to do around here.”

Clu talks like they’re old friends and maybe they are.

The armory fits him with armor, glowing red-orange (should be another color? No no no, this is right) and a dark tinted helmet that he cannot disengage (no need, leave it, don’t need a face, not important). A Siren engages the disc on his back with a soft click and suddenly he remembers his name: Rinzler (Has it always been that? Yes, yes of couse).

The Sirens walk robotic back into their chambers as he is left alone, outside of his cell for the first time (ever? Yes, there was nothing before).

The doors slide open and a new light floods the room (lights in the sky, they mean something good), the sound of chanting and cheering fills the air. Rinz-ler, Rinz-ler, Rinz-ler they scream, guided in this by some booming disembodied voice he doesn’t recognize.

He steps into the arena and it feels like home.


End file.
